Oh, what I wouldn’t give to go nuts swatching makeup on my hand.
I just want to go to Sephora and stick my fingers in all the makeup again. Is there anything so pleasurable as stumbling upon a new drop and swatching all the shades on the back of your hand? Mmmm. Satisfying.
I miss spreading my germs from shadow pan to shadow pan, as I wander through the aisles, touching all the makeup that many before me had also touched. How clean are these peoples’ hands? Who cares— life was so free back then.
I remember the times when my husband would trail me as I made my way through the store. He’d chime in with his opinion when I’d ask: "I think this red would look nice on you, but brown tones always suit you. I like this red, though." And I’d go, "Okay, I think I’ll go with this coral shade instead."
My hand would look like the palette of an indecisive painter. The same colors, but warmer and cooler, shimmerier and satinier.
I could line up all of my lipsticks on my vanity to simulate the Sephora experience, but I'll know, in the back of my mind, that no one else had touched them. Where's the fun in not partaking in others' bacteria?
This is the "new normal," I guess. I just want to live in a world of beauty, one where my dollars spent are rewarded with makeup samples for ants. Oh no, my mascara is running. Let me open this one-time use luxury makeup remover to clean up.
Just fyi, I swear my hands were always clean when I swatched. I'm the type to use hand sanitizer religiously throughout the day. And I'm just kidding about missing other peoples' germs. "Are you a bacteria insider with us? What's a good number or e-mail to look you up?"
